Kingdom of the Undead
by Molonara
Summary: FET decides to go to the L4D universe for a little vacation. Nothing but mindless zombies, right? WRONG! Turns out there is more to this Zombie Apocalypse then anyone realized. Long Hiatus expected.
1. Chased

FET ran as fast as she could on all her fours, which was the fastest way she could travel. Deserted buildings and old decaying dumpsters flew past her in a blur. She made sure to avoid any of the parked cars. The last thing she needed right now was to draw the horde with an unneeded car alarm. Blood was dripping out of the gap in her neck, leaving a trail of crimson behind her.

She never thought her venture here would be like this, never. It was just supposed to be a little vacation to kill some zombies, talk with the famous survivors, and then go home. That was it! It wasn't suppose to end up with her running from the good guys, no matter how paranoid they were.

A bullet whizzed past her head and struck the pavement in front of her with a spark. FET flinched and started to run in zigzags to avoid any more. They were starting to catch up. Not good, not good!

The unneeded feeling of self-preservation started to take over and FET hid behind a rusty trashcan, which was not the best hiding spot, but it would have to do for the moment until she could get her bearings.

She held her breath as flashlight beams skimmed over her hiding place. The hole in her neck wasn't healing fast enough, she couldn't call out to them to stand down and tell them she was not infected. But would they have believed her, after what they had seen?

"Here kitty, kitty," she heard a gruff voice whom FET recognized as Bill, "Where are you?" Darn you Bill! FET thought, you better keep your promise!

Another voice called out, "Come out, come out, wherever you are." It was Louis. Was it just those two? No, the others were nearby, she could hear their heart beats and breathing with her perceptive ears.

FET looked around for another place to hide, and almost jumped when she discovered she was sitting next to a white-eyed corpse that smelled of Boomer bile. Pity filled her soul, poor guy, she thought, he didn't make it. There was no firearm near it, and if there were she couldn't use it on them. Rule one: Never attack or attempt to kill main characters.

Footsteps drew nearer, along with the click of a firearm. Time was running out… well not really, she had all the time in the world. With this premise, FET asked herself why she was hiding when nothing could hurt her? Simple really. She didn't want to pick out bullets from her insides.

Something shiny in the corpse's hand caught FET's attention as a flashlight beam locked on it for a second. She pried it out of the dead man's cold grip, with some disgust. It was a set of car keys and what looked like a button for a car alarm. Hmmm… this could be useful…

The survivors were drawing close now. FET stared at the little silver symbol of a horn blaring. Now or never, she thought while hoping the car in question was nearby, FET pushed the button.

A car alarm erupted from behind her, loud and obnoxious, lights flashed off the brick walls of the alley.

A female voice yelled out, "God damn it, Francis!"

"I didn't do it, Zoey, I swear!" answered a male, undoubtedly frustrated Zoey would always jump to the conclusion that it was his fault.

The alarm drew the attention of the nearby horde. Zombies ran past FET like a stampede of wildebeests, not noticing her. Some infected were even approaching from the roof, falling to the ground, breaking limbs, then getting up as if it were nothing, determined to destroy the source of the racket.

As the survivors were preoccupied, FET took her leave.

Running down the alley, the immortal Alucard Hybrid spread her wings, and with a quick flap and strong jump, she flew up to the rooftops and hid.

She sat in the shadow of a chimney, her wings wrapped around her to keep out the night air. Stewing over the recent events, she came to the quick and swift reality.

Her home ticket was in the hands of those who now wanted to fill her with lead. And she wasn't getting on that plane to Molonara any time soon.

The sounds of gunshots and screaming zombies were growing faint now, but FET remained still until the only sound was wind whistling through the rabbit ears.

And a witch crying in the distance.


	2. Happy 68th Birthday!

Happy Birthday!

Those words were uttered so many times that day to FET. In celebration of her 68th year on the planet Molonara, her friends and family had thrown a 'birthday' party for her. It wasn't even her real birthday, but since the times had changed, quite literally in fact, she couldn't find her birthday, her real one, on the new calendar. They used the day she became an Alucard instead.

Now the party was over and everyone had gone home. FET was busy cleaning up the recreational area with the help of a few ghosts and some corpses Alucard the Zombie Sheppard, or ZS, had animated to assist in the clean up.

FET wished some of her guests were a bit more considerate. There were spilled drinks everywhere and a lot of streamers on the floor.

"Do you need any help?" came a voice. FET turned to see one of Adumreb's citizens and an old friend. Plink, the link book writer, stared at her with his face open so he could smile.

Plink was a creation FET had invented to write linking books for her. He was bug-like, looking similar to a locust. He had a fleshy cover for his face to make him look more appealing. It opened like a four-leaf clover, his face like a skeleton's.

His tail curved forward so he could sit and be at FET's eye level, his long legs tucked behind him. His black eyes with the white pupils were striking and his horn made him look like some demented unicorn.

"I'm fine," FET said, sweeping cups around with a broom.

Plink closed his face, causing him to frown. "You look like you need a vacation," he opened the bottom of his face, smiling again. He held out a book, and FET's face lit up like a 1000 watt bulb.

"What is the world?" FET asked.

Plink's smile seemed to grow, even though it couldn't really, "You remember that video game Left 4 Dead?"

"Of course I remember!" FET was overjoyed. "That was one of the best zombie gamed ever!"

The link book bug placed the book in her hands, "If you want, you can go there, kill some zombies and chat with the main characters."

FET walked up and hugged Plink. He was hard because of his exoskeleton, "Thanks Plink," she opened the book and glanced at the moving picture, "Be sure to shelve the book when I link, OK?" The writer nodded.

With a touch of the page and a whirring sound, FET vanished and linking book plopped to the floor.

Plink picked it up, silently wishing FET good luck, and went to the library.


	3. Screamer in the House

FET appeared in a place so familiar she almost cried.

Coming out of the link, the first thing she saw was a house. A gasp escaped from FET's throat. It… it couldn't be…

FET walked up to it and stared at it for a long, long time, looking for some flaw that would make her hunch wrong.

But she wasn't wrong. She was undoubtedly right!

The purple haired girl jumped for joy. She was home, a copy of her old home! The home that had been lost those 190 Earth years ago.

_Thank you Plink!_ She thought to herself as she opened the front door. It was entirely the same, just as she remembered it. Sure, there was some deterioration, indicating about two weeks of neglect according to Life After People. Yet, FET was still able to recognize.

As she explored the house, memories began to come back. Happy memories, sad memories, so many memories. She could not thank Plink enough.

Then FET decided to go check her old room. Ascending the staircase, FET wondered what her room looked like now. The posters of cats and dragons must have been loosing their color. Maybe termites had already started eating at the desk and chairs. She hoped her books on the bookshelf were OK. She walked down the upstairs hall toward the door on the left.

_**Grooooan.**_

FET stopped just outside the door. There was something in there! She had almost forgotten where she was. There were zombies here, everywhere. She had to be extra careful. Maybe she should go back.

No, she was impervious to everything! Nothing could hurt her, nothing. Her crystal heart ensured that! She picked up a piece of wood that had rotted out of the ceiling. She would kill this zombie, or infected… whatever, then go find those survivors, plain and simple.

Rounding the doorframe, she faced the room, and was immediately shocked.

This wasn't her room, it looked nothing like it! The window was gone, and there was no furniture. Most surprising were the walls; they were padded with cushions like some crazies' cell. It was dark and had an ominous feeling to it. FET didn't like it.

With her yellow cat eyes adjusting, she saw whom, or in this case, what had made the groan. In the far corner of the padded room was a figure. FET moved closer to it, her blunt plank held tight in one hand. It was asleep, and that was good. It appeared to be a man with a grotesque face, long oily black hair, and encased in a straight jacket. This image seemed familiar to FET… was he a special infected? No, there were only Hunters, Smokers, Boomers, Tanks… Witches… Chargers, Spitters and…. Jockeys! But something about this zombie seemed to ring a small alarm bell in her head. She was about to leave when she noticed appeared to be holding something.

It was holding a book, what looked like a linking book. Why was this infected holding it? Was it protecting it? For any reason, FET decided it would be best it she had the book. The last time something had the book was in Silent Hill. Valtiel had it, but he wouldn't give it to her until the very end. FET didn't want to go through that again.

Moving ever so slowly, FET reached out and began to gently slide the book out of the sleeping infected's grasp. The creature suddenly twitched and let out an animal-like grunt. FET froze, holding her breath, which was easy since she didn't need to breath. She stood still for about a few minutes. The zombie didn't seem to be waking up. She pulled the book out the rest of the way.

With the book free of zombie's teddy bear hold, she took a few steps back, almost stumbling due to the padded floor. FET opened the front cover and was relieved to see a moving picture that gave the linking book its name and destination. Should she put it back? There must have been a reason for it to be holding it, right? Plink never did something in his writing unless there was a reason, especially if it involved the location of a linking book.

Suddenly, the straightjacket infected stirred. Its glowing yellowish eyes fluttered open lazily, and it yawned. FET didn't know if she should run, so she stood there.

The creature slowly looked down at its empty arms, its eyes searching for a few seconds. Then its eyes widened and it let out a bereft whine, as if the book had been its child or something.

Then it looked up at FET.

It stared at her for a few seconds, then the book she was holding. Its eyes glowed blankly, hair falling in front of its face.

As if it had finally realized some danger or pain, the zombie opened its mouth and let out the loudest scream FET had ever herd, even in her lifetime.

FET took a swing at it head and it instantly fell to the ground as its skull and shattered. Blood began to seep through the white padding of the room.

Like a turn up of volume, the sound of approaching zombie came from all directions outside. FET knew that it was time to go. She left the Screamer, as only now she remembered what it was, and took the book and whacking stick. Running quick down the stairs and out the front door, she discovered that the horde had surrounded the house and were approaching fast. There weren't many, probably less then fifty, but FET still wanted to get out of there.

She generated her extra arms, which were skeletal and boney white. They held the book, leaving her normal arms free for any needed combat.

A wall of infected swarmed toward her, and the purple haired girl pushed and fought her way through. Grubby hands clawed at her, taking her bulwark stick and trying to tear her apart limb from limb, but FET was brave, and she clawed back with equal strength even stronger. Reaching the other side of the blockade, FET ran, ran, and ran away.

And oh, how she ran, as if hell was at her heels. Or in this case, a horde of blood thirty or more zombies.

She had the book, maybe she should go home. But no, where was the fun in giving up now? She should at least find the Survivors. Which ones should she meet, the new ones or the old?

Oh whatever, fate would decide.

Running through the town with a zombie parade behind her, she wondered where in this world could they be.


	4. Kywying

FET always loved to run, she really did, for hours and hours no stop. I fact, FET had even invented a sport, if one could call it that, called Kywying, just about running and imagining to music.

But after running for two days straight, with no food or energy and with a horde of deranged infected people after her, FET didn't love to run anymore. Of course two days in Earth time was like day on Molonara, so she wasn't extremely tired, but she was reaching a limit, even for her.

The number of ghouls that chased her kept changing their numbers over those long two days. First they increased to the hundreds, and then decreased to about ninety when FET had exploded some with a abandoned oil tanker, and then they just went up to the hundreds again. Now, however, since they were down to about fifty, FET found it the perfect time to ditch them. And it was growing dark in the town area she was running through now, the perfect time to slip away unseen.

She was in a town of sorts at the moment. She believed it was called Fairfeild, she had reached it after following PA-23 West and the Lincoln Highway. There was something significantly familiar about this town. Cracking concrete houses and fallen power-lines caught her attention as she flew past with the zombies hot on her heals. FET wished they would just leave her alone, or better yet, she wished she could remember how to destroy a large amount of foes, but alas, she had not listened to her doctor, Reven Malof. He was the one who had given her an Alucard Hybrid body in the first place after she had lost her voice under mysterious circumstances.

FET could still remember that day, waking up after months of her DNA being altered and combined with the many indigenous life forms that populated Molonara. She had marveled at her new form and thanked the wise Ghost Cat a number of times in her new voice, but had never stayed for him to fully explain all the power she had, and all she could do. FET knew that one day she would have to pay for that decision. Maybe today was that day.

The linking book that lead back to Molonara was gripped tightly in her arms, its cover gem, that allowed the book to only open to her bio signature, or the DNA imprint of any of the creatures from Molonara, glinted in a broken streetlight. It was strange that the power would still be working. According to Life After People, there should be no more electricity left. With no people to work the power plants, the power should have gone out the day after the virus struck. But then, this was a videogame world, not a lot of things here would make sense in the mind of a human scientist, especially the zombie part. Thankfully, FET had an open mind.

Maybe she should go back home now. Tired, hunger, zombies, and all, she was a little over her head… Nah, she was fine. FET had endured worse anyway.

It was when she saw the sky growing dark with ominous clouds, her legs began shaking, and she almost lost her footing that FET knew it was time to stop thinking and get away from those persistent ghouls. And in perfect timing, a dark and silent alleyway appeared on her right. FET made a sharp turn into it, her personal parade following her to the letter.

There was a bright flash of lighting from above, illuminating the alleyway for a brief moment, followed by the faint cry of a Witch up ahead. FET's eyes widened a bit, Witches were always trouble as she remembered from game, but maybe she could use the special infected's sobbing cry to her advantage. Maybe if she were near the Witch, the other infected would stay away… No, no, that was a stupid idea. She would get dismembered in the process.

So FET decided to go with a more… smarter escape plan.

Mustering up the last good strength in her legs she had left, FET gave one final sprint, and then when she was farther away from the following horde, she jumped, scampered, crawled, and leaped up a brick wall lined with vines, almost as a Hunter would. The zombies continued running down the alleyway, following a false idea that their prey was still ahead of them.

FET looked down at the swarm and chuckled, "Stupid zombies."

Speaking of Hunters, FET hadn't caught sight of any since she got here. In fact, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of any special infected while on her marathon. No Tanks, no Boomers, not even a simple Smoker. This was curious, because this world was always so chock full of them. She wondered where they were all hiding.

**BLAM! BLAM!**

The sound of gunshots almost knocked FET off the edge of roof she was sitting on. Given her Silent Hill experiences, her first instinct was to run away from the sound of gunfire. But soon the fear was gone and replaced with curiosity and joy. Only survivors could have shot off a gun, and by the sounds of it, they were nearby! FET's ears swiveled up to the top of her head, becoming pointed and cat-like, and her eyes were now strangely black and orange Q'd, the rare Zoom Eyes that was part of the Vampra DNA, which allowed her to see farther, almost like a sniper scope. Looking hard down into the darkness, she saw what she had been searching for.

She had found the Survivors!


	5. All Around a Can of Fire

FET stared into the fire of an oil drum, wondering what exactly to say. She could feel the stares of the survivors burning her scalp, obviously wondering why she had purple hair. This was always a common question people wondered and asked, but the truth was she didn't know the answer. She just figured that it was a genetic mutation from her DNA that didn't allow her hair to change back to its original brown, which FET severely missed. FET didn't mind the stares though, she was used to people thinking she was strange or weird. True, she wasn't a human entirely, but she was still as beautiful as she was about one hundred and ninety Earth years ago. However, due to the circumstances, FET did not show her true form.

When she had escaped the horde that had been following her for over two days, the mindless and hungry brutes ran into the survivors. After a quick firefight, along with the first appearances of special infected on FET's trip, the famous four had made their way up to a rooftop, where FET, remembering a scene from the game, had gone ahead to wait for them as patiently as she could since she was ultimately excited. As they arrived, FET had revealed herself from behind a chimney. They were obviously not thinking that there were any other "people" alive, because they shot at her as soon as they saw her walk out. It was also dark, which might have made them mistaken her for a zombie. FET immediately shrank back behind the chimney, called out to stop shooting, which they did, and emerged for a second time, this time with more caution. A bullet had grazed her thigh, but the wound had quickly, yet slowly, healed up, her pants repairing themselves as well, so they didn't know they had hit her. Introductions were given and now here they were, sitting around a flaming bucket in the cold night air. It was raining lightly, but there was a tarp they were sitting under, stretched from the chimney to a taller neighboring building. So they were cold, but at least dry.

The beef jerky that had been passed around earlier was long gone, her and the survivors had gobbled it up like a pack of hungry wolves. FET normally didn't like beef jerky, but she was so food deprived that the little scraps of smoked ham had been delicious. But even with that little pick-me-up, FET was still hungry. She struggled to keep her mind from realizing that anything with flowing blood is food. The others were hungry too; FET could hear Francis's stomach grumbling from where she was sitting.

This man, with tattooed covered arms and a leather jacket, named Francis, sat across from FET on the other side of the flames, polishing the barrel of a shotgun with a dirty rag. He was obviously not at ease, and why shouldn't he be? They were not in a safe-room, all safe-like; they were out in the open, the ominous open, surrounded on all sides by zombies, which thankfully didn't know they were there at the moment.

Sitting next to her was Bill, the old army veteran with a somewhat short grey beard and an aged uniform. It was Bill whom FET thought she had the most similarities with. Out of the rest of the survivors, he seemed to be the one who was closest to the age FET actually was, but she couldn't tell for sure and it would be impolite to ask. And like FET, he had seen his fair share of wars and shit fights. However, Bill smoked and FET couldn't stand that.

FET inched a little away from him to avoid the small tobacco coming from the cigarette that never seemed to leave his mouth. It was then Bill coughed a bit, not a surprise to FET, who suspected Bill might be developing lung cancer from having a breath of a cancer-stick twenty-four seven, but the cough was so much like a Smoker's that it caused Louis to wake up and look around in a searching manner. Upon view of Bill, who gave him a gesture to show that it was he who made the noise, Louis sighed, unneeded tension gone, and settled back against a weathered lawn-chair.

Finding Louis to be the weakest of the Survivors, FET felt sorry for the dark-skinned man in the office uniform with the red tie. Yet she did envy his intellect and spirit. Poor Louis was always so optimistic in this situation, grasping on the fading idea that everything was going to be all right. If only he knew, if only they all knew what was in store for them at the end of their journey. FET, of course, knew already but she wouldn't give any hint that she did, not a word. And since FET was an experienced liar who could keep a straight face with duel practice, she could always keep her cover.

It was strange, and FET had noticed this a few years back. When she would visit a Movie Universe, she would arrive close to where the movie in question had ended, but with Videogame Universes, the rules were almost always different. FET would come in when the storyline of the focus videogame had begun, creating a similar yet slightly different plot to include her. This might be the case that a videogame's story is not as set in stone as a movie's story. There were abnormalities, such as the time FET went to the Silent Hill Universe. She arrived in between Origins and the original, which bummed her out, cause she really wanted to meet Travis. But she was not in control, and with Universes, hey, what could you do?

Speaking of video games, this world had one of the best horror survival games of its time as its basis. Left 4 Dead, although she hadn't much time to play it, was one of FET's favorite when it came to zombie massacres. The company Valve had done an excellent job, along with other great games such as Half-life and Portal. Maybe in the future she would get linking books to those worlds too. Especially Portal; FET had been itching to go there.

With Portal on her mind, FET began to hum "Still Alive" quietly to herself, not looking up from the fire-barrel and thinking the words in her head.

It was when she got to "Aperture Science" that someone else started starting humming the same tune too. FET looked up to see it was Zoey, the late high school, or early college girl in the pink sports jacket. The humming paused there, the girls wondering if they should continue the small little rhyme song. Then FET gave a shy smile, which Zoey returned, and the song commenced in humming from where it was left off.

Humming turned to singing as Louis joined in, much to FET's surprise and delight. They sang it near perfectly, getting louder and louder, but not too loud as to alert any nearby zombies, not that they could have heard them over the droning patter of rain, but one can never be too careful. Only Francis and Bill didn't join in the hearty tune, perhaps because they didn't know the words or the song entirely.

As the song ended, FET panting a bit out of breath and her throat a bit sore, bringing back a bad memory of the past, Francis turned to the trio.

"What the hell were you singing?" he asked, sounding slightly angry and annoyed. FET got a little annoyed herself, why didn't he like the song… then again, it could be a little annoying at times.

Before FET could respond to Francis's question, Zoey and Louis explained. Both being gamers, as FET remembered, they told Francis exactly what it was from, every detail memorized by heart, and commented how good the video game was. FET smiled a bit at how Valve had linked all their games together. Perhaps there was a Headcrab out there somewhere… or maybe a resistance of RED and BLU…

Francis didn't seem to be amused by the whole explanation. "No more singing," he ordered, "this is a zombie apocalypse, not a summer camp. It's no place or time for campfire songs."

FET shrank a bit in un-approving embarrassment, yet not too far. She saw now that Francis thought of himself as the 'leader', which FET knew was never good when a group of people needed to work together in a situation of this magnitude. A boorish leader in hard times always equals trouble.

Bill, who had been looking around to see if their little chorus had attracted any attention, blew a little stream of smoke that faded quickly in a gust of misty wind.

"Don't expect me to say this too often," he said gruffly, eyeing Francis with some resentment, "But Francis is right. We should stay quiet while we're out here. When we get to a safe place, you can sing all the songs you want."

FET looked up from the flames so hopefully. Now was time to pop the question, the one that had been nagging her since she had first met these survivors.

"Does that mean I can travel with you guys?"

The Survivors looked at one another, as if they were discussing this question with mere eye contact. FET began to worry, what if they said no? Surely they wouldn't, would they?

"It would be better if we got to know you a bit more," Zoey said after looks were exchanged, which felt like an eternity of waiting for FET, "Like… your name is FET right?" FET nodded, "What's that your always carrying around with you? Is it a book?"

FET looked down at what Zoey was pointing at to realize she was still holding the precious linking book, much to her surprise. She had forgotten all about it, and it was a wonder she hadn't left it somewhere where she was sure she'd never find it, which she usually did. FET placed it on her lap and inspected it for any damage, which was silly because nothing could damage these books. How tightly she must have been holding it to leave her finger marks indented in the strange purple leather.

"Well?" Zoey asked again, sounding somewhat impatient.

FET wondered what she should say, especially to these mortals who wouldn't get the reality of things. Too dangerous to say what it really was, so thinking fast, she replied, "It's something very special and precious of mine… personally if I lost it, I don't know what I'd do." This was actually quite true, since if FET lost this linking book, she would be stranded here for a while, as well as anyone who came looking for her would be without a book back to her world with them. Unlike her, her friends would die, and she knew putting them in danger would trouble her mind till the end of time, or at least until she forgot. Plink would surely warn them of the dangers this Universe held, or better yet, he could write the book back into the hands of the Screamer. FET had forgotten he could do that though.

"What is it? The book of Eli?" Louis said sarcastically, and everyone chuckled a bit, but stopped when a piecing warning cry of a Hunter hit the air from somewhere far off, making all of them jump, hold FET who was almost totally desensitized from Silent Hill. Francis aimed his gun in the direction the cry had come from, and held aim for about half a minute. Nothing came at them, and he lowered the weapon, but still stared in that direction.

"You know," Francis pointed out as he turned his attention away and back to the center of attention, "You can't carry a gun and that book or whatever it is at the same time. You're going to have to leave it behind."

The purple haired girl gasped a bit and held the linking book to her chest tightly, protectively, "But… but… I can't leave it behind, I just can't! I'll die without it!" Her voice rose to an almost yell, but she quickly silenced herself and looked down at the ground, away from pressuring eyes. This was a lie of course, FET couldn't die, but she couldn't lose this book. What if she couldn't find it afterwards!

"I'll carry it for you," FET looked to Bill who had generously offered, Bill who had a limp and couldn't go up stairs very fast. "Are you sure Bill?" FET said almost apologetically, already feeling like a burden to the team, "I don't want to slow you down."

The kind old man smiled, "I think I can handle it." He held out his time worn hand to take the all-important piece of parchment. FET looked down at the book, rubbed a smug of grease off the corner, and sighed, "OK…" she said, very unsure of herself, "But only if you promise that if anything happens to me, you won't lose this. No matter what happens, you can't lose this!"

"Don't worry about it kid," Bill said, gently taking the book out of FET's grasp and putting it in an inside pocket of his torn green army jacket, "I'll keep it close to my other keepsake," By which he meant his smokes.

"Thank you," FET said gratefully. She felt a little empty and unsure about giving up the book to this doomed character, but she needed both hands to hold a firearm. Speaking of which, she asked the Survivors if they had any weapons they could lend her. Zoey generously offered her a small handgun, which FET accepted with the greatest gratitude. Good old Zoey was the closest to the age FET appeared to be and acted to be, and the most leader like, an alpha female as it were. She also liked videogames and horror movies if her memory was correct.

The sound of a helicopter began approach just as the rain stopped. The Survivors and FET got to their feet and listened as it began to let out an announcement.

"To anyone who can hear this, proceed to Mercy Hospital for evacuation, repeat, proceed to Mercy Hospital for evacuation."

FET's spirit jumped for joy as the helicopter flew past and blew the tarp off the roof. She was going to live Left 4 Dead!

This was the best birthday present she could have ever asked for.


	6. And So Ends the Fellowship

"Eat lead zombies!" FET shouted as she mowed down infected left and right with a small machine gun she had found earlier. This was just so cool! Here she was, brawling it out with the undead, the Survivors at her side like her best buddies. She and the Survivors had been through some tough shit in the last day or so, and her relationship with them had progressed to a semi solid trust, which was a pretty good in a group situation like this.

They were on their way, slowly but surely, to Mercy Hospital for evacuation. FET couldn't remember what was going to happen when they got there, but she was having way too much fun killing zombies to care. She was worried though, and the others were too. Their venture had taken them through mostly abandoned building, trashy streets, and even some cold subways. Along the way, they had stopped at a multitude of safe-rooms to catch a breather, heal up any open wounds, and chat about the little things, like what they'd miss and left behind, how many zombies they'd killed, and FET's all time favorite, who got the zombie kill of the week. All safe-rooms, however, had regarded haunting messages that seemed to shout their warnings from the wall. "NO HOPE", "NONE OF YOU WILL SURVIVE", "ENTIRE CITY IS GONE – IF YOU CAN READ THIS, **LEAVE!**", "NOBODY IS GOING TO SAVE US", and "They are going to bomb the city. If you can read this, GET OUT!" just to name a few. FET took more interest in the ones that read, "Keith: Waited 3 days at the meeting spot after we got separated. I can't wait anymore. Meet me at Mercy Hospital-Krista" for obvious reasons and "They can talk" also sparked her interest, but she stilled paid attention to the ill toned ones. The group had seemed to ignore these prophecies of doom, but FET could still sense the uneasiness and uncertainty that hung in the air. It didn't help that the helicopter that had issued the evacuation notice was actually transmitting a recording that kept repeating over and over in a suspicious fashion. Not a good sign. She was sure that everyone was starting to have second thoughts about going to the hospital, which could easily turn out to be just another Hellhole.

And yet, for some reason, they pressed on to that uncertain fate, not caring what lay in store for them. It was truly an act of determination.

Infected approached from every direction, growling and wailing like a pack of rabid dogs, sprinting toward the group. They were fast, really fast, but FET was actually surprisingly glad that they were the fast type of zombies. The Romero zombies, also know as the slow and more undead ones, could only be killed with a shot to the head, a pet-peeve of FET's. These, thankfully, were the rabid or "mad-cow" zombies, easier to kill, and unlike the Romeros, still somewhat alive. Besides, the infected might have been fast, but the Survivors were faster. Francis, given his itchy trigger finger, was the quickest to put down a snarling ghoul. Bill was the second in quick shots, but FET knew he would have been a whole lot faster then Francis in his youth. Next was Zoey, quick witted and trained a bit, she could rival the two champs with a bit more practice, which was something they were going to get a lot of. And Louis… well… with not a lot training in real life, cause video games don't count, and only at a shooting range, all he could do was shoot and hope he hits something.

Suddenly, Louis let out a shout, "There it is!" he cried. Everyone looked in the direction he was looking. Through the polluted gloom of the city's night, a skyscraper stood out, its dark looming shape almost indistinguishable compared to its bright neon sign. The word MERCY shown down like a ray of hope sent from heaven. At the sight of this beacon, FET could feel the veil of sorrow and loss lift from her and her comrades' shoulder, and was replaced with a reassuring blanket of perseverance.

"We'll be there in no time!" said Zoey, dispatching a staggering ghoul from a distance with the classic head shout, "Come on, we won't got there by standing around!" FET nodded with warmness in her heart and a smile on her face. Now was the time for a firefight, and a good one at that. With her small machine gun in hand and plenty of rounds to go around, FET couldn't help thinking, _what could possibly go wrong?_

Perhaps she jinxed it;perhaps karma just decided to unleash its bad luck, but when those five words entered FET's head, everything turned sour.

There was a sudden raspy cough from behind the group, and before anyone could say Smoker! FET felt something wet and slimy wrap around her left ankle and yank her off her feet, causing her to drop her gun and a box of rounds she found. She gave a slight yelp of surprise, alerting the Survivors to her predicament. Yet as they turned around to help her, a foul smelling liquid came raining down from above onto FET's friends. As the greenish mass coated them, there was uproar from all around. The Horde was coming! FET shouted out to her comrades for help, but blinded by the Boomer's puke they were no help now.

The Horde emerged from every way possible sprinting toward her heroes as she was dragged further and further away. Strangely, and FET was sure that it was just coincidence, but this seemed to be an almost perfectly orchestrated ambush, almost as if it was planned. But that was stupid. These zombies didn't have any cooperation or high-ranking intelligence whatsoever. There was no way that a couple of ghouls could have worked together to take down the Survivors… right?

FET's mind was cleared of these doubting thoughts when the pavement she was being dragged across started to peal her exposed skin. Not good, not good! Looking around quick, she noticed a broken window and it's shattered glass littering the blacktop bellow it. Grabbing a grove in the blacktop to avoid being dragged anymore, she reached over and grabbed a piece. Then, being careful not to cut herself, she sliced through the Smoker's tongue just close to her ankle. The tongue fell limp, and then slowly began to real back into the darkness. Getting up quickly with the knowledge that a very angry Smoker was preparing for another attack, she ran back to where her comrades had fallen, only to discover a wall of infected, too preoccupied to notice her, surrounding them. She could hear the discharges of their weapons, but it was muffled by the shear quantity of the zombies. Her gun was nowhere to be seen. Unarmed and feeling quite vulnerable, FET looked around for some kind of suitable weapon before she was noticed.

A sudden familiar screech erupted from above, and as FET looked up, she was just in time to see the Hunter pounce on her, knocking the wind out of her lungs and hitting her head hard against the pavement, temporarily stunning her.

Everything began to blur and slow for FET now, the way it does when a concussion bomb hits someone. The blow to her head must have rattled her brain a bit. FET struggled to focus her blurry eyes as the Hunter began to claw at her ferociously. It's snarling was muffled to her ears, sounding as if from underwater. Finally, FET gained enough sense back to try and protect herself, first trying to hit her attacker, but when she kept missing his hazy form continuing and the punches that did make contact would be too weak to harm a kitten, FET resorted to trying to block the Hunter's attacks, or at least stop it from scratching her up the best she could.

Some of the Horde must have heard the commotion, because now they surrounded the Hunter and his prey, kicking and scratching FET till she believed she had lost fifty percent of her blood. Lucky yet unlucky for FET, she could never feel the true measure of pain a normal person could, only sharp pinpricks for some of the really bad stuff, but then it would all just go numb because of the high morphine her brain and heart would produce. When she got cut or scratched or even broke a bone, it always grew back after a little while, but without a good amount of blood, she couldn't regenerate fast enough.

Then FET realized she hadn't taken a breath since the wind was knocked out of her, not surprising that she didn't notice, FET only breathed for talking. She sucked in all she could and yelled "HELP!" hoping that surly now the Survivors had killed the Horde and could help her, "Get this thing off me! I'm over here! Help me! He…"

Suddenly, FET's speech turned into a gargled hiss and her throat became strangely over numb and felt funny. In fact, she couldn't feel her throat at all, causing her to feel quite alarmed. Lifting a trembling bleeding hand, the purple haired girl felt her neck, only to discover a big wet gaping hole where her esophagus used to be. FET was shocked, purely and truly shocked. Never before had she lost this much in a fight. Her eyes circled the bloody blank eyed faces, dripping and oozing red liquid from their ears, noses, and mouths, for the one who did this. After what seemed an eternity of searching, her eyes came to rest on the Hunter who had pinned her. In it's claw-like hands, the pound of flesh FET was missing dripped lines of blood through the special infected's fingers and down its duck-tapped arms. It brought it up to its mouth as if to eat.

It was as if, at that moment, that FET had left her body, and watched from a distance, as some monster possessed her body and began to react without her acknowledgment. She watched as her hand reached out… and tore the Hunter's jaw right out of its socket. The poor special infected let out a distorted yowl of pain and retreated. Rage bubbled up from a deep dark hole near FET's soul that was seldom looked at, and in a sparking snap, she leapt to her mauled feet and went ballistic. Bones cracked, limbs snapped, infected screamed, blood coated the walls, ground, and even FET's mouth. She could barley believe what was happening as she tore zombies apart involuntarily. Some infected tried to run away, but this was a mistake they soon regretted as they were soon caught and… at that point FET was so disturbed by the massacre being brought by her own hand, she retreated her mind to a more peaceful place and tried to ignore the horror being caused by herself.

This wasn't the first time that something like this had happened to her. FET always had had times like this, bad times, in which she had gone into a blind fury. She was told it was a self defense mechanism activated when too much blood was lost or she was outnumbered and weak, causing her to act in a violent manner attacking anything that moved. It was kind of like the Avatar State Aang had, and like him, it would take a while for her to be fully control of herself during this state.

Eventually, she sensed all was over and emerged back to see what she had done. All that was left of her massacre was disgusting mound of bloody flesh. The effect of uncontrollable rage had worn down now, but not completely disappeared. Time had finally caught up enough for her to concentrate, see straight, and move her hands freely. She was standing ankle deep in the carnage, crimson liquid soaking up her grey pant legs. There was a taste of blood in her mouth, strangely sweet, indicating there was still a chance she could attack something, killing it menacing. At the sound of approaching footsteps, she turned her head and growled.

Unfortunately, she realized whom she was growling at too late. Looks like the Survivors had finally decided to help their new friend, only to discover they were a little late to crush some skulls, since FET had crush them all quite literally. It was at this moment that she realized she had changed to her Alucard form, great and powerful as it was. Her cover was blown completely in front of the Survivors. This was one of the biggest screw-ups FET had done, and there had been a few. The Survivors looked at each other, basically wondering what to make of this, then back to FET, a look of horror in their eyes. Not surprising, FET always got this reaction when revealing to humans. Very slowly, they raised their firearms. Realizing the immediate situation, FET quickly raised her hands in a way to say, 'I'm no threat, don't shoot!' However, this didn't change anything. Perhaps one too many Witches had gotten them suspicious.

"I think FET has turned," Francis said a little too calmly, his line of sight straight at her head. Louis nodded, and Zoey pumped her shotgun, reloading it. The looks the Survivors gave her caused her stomach to ache, but it was Bill's expression that took the cake. It was as if Bill thought FET had committed the act of ultimate duplicity and now he was going to do what he always said he was going to do if anyone got infected.

"What is she?" Louis asked, "I've never seen a special infected like that before." This was getting out of hand. Infected? No, no, no, she wasn't infected. FET stepped forward and attempted to tell them she was still of sane mind, to explain everything.

Sadly, what happened next only succeeded to completely adulterate everything. FET tried to say, "I'm not infected! I can explain!" but since her throat had not completely healed itself, all that came out was a gurgling squawking sound. Trigger-happy Francis concluded this to be the go-ahead, and fired a round. The bullet traveled fast through the air and ripped a hole in FET's ever so sensitive wing. She gave a slight yelp as the pin-prickling feeling traveled to her spine. She couldn't help it; instinctively, she let out a hiss at them. One of the stupidest things she could have done.

In light of her inopportune mistake, FET did the only thing she could do, run. With the Survivors right behind her, firing round after round, FET couldn't help but think that she was missing something important. It came to her then, like the cold water of reality hitting her in the face. She was running away empty handed, without her linking book, toward some unseen fate. She could only pray that Bill would keep his promise.


	7. Sick Realization

The radiant sun had just begun to rise over the distance horizon, painting the cloudless sky shades of pink and orange. It's light glinted off the windows, rabbit ears, and satellite dishes of the vast suburban city of Fairfield. A couple of birds were twittering a song of forgotten peace that sounded like tiny gospel bells, but they suddenly flew away as a zombie appeared and attempted to grab one. The infected took no notice to the wonders of the morning in this quiet world; they merely hobbled along the streets looking for something that could not be found. What that is, is still a mystery.

Up on a rooftop, in the shadow of a red and brown brick chimney, a black velvet mass coated with dew shifted, then opened like the petals of a gothic flower to reveal the purple haired FET inside. She had bags under her eyes, the color of them almost matching that of her hair, suggesting she didn't sleep too well. What a night it had been, so much had happened, bad stuff. FET had managed to escape any negative confrontations with the Survivors and take refuge in the dark of the night. Thankfully no infected had disturbed her, leaving her in peace as she watched with a heavy heart as the chopper came and rescued them from Mercy Hospital, taking her way out of here with them. She fallowed the helicopter's path with her Zoom Eyes, until it was a speck in the distance. Now, she couldn't be sure, but just as it had gone out of her view, she thought she saw it fall. She had no memory of this ever happening, but maybe she was just forgetting it. Still, what was she going to do? FET had never been in a situation like this before, it was always she would go to a world for a day to a week or more, see some local sights, then leave via the traditional linking book. Never before had she lost it to the hands of someone else…. Well, now that FET thought about it, that wasn't true. Alessa hadn't let her leave Silent Hill for sometime, but FET knew it was for her own good and sanity.

FET put a dirty dried blood hand to her throat and felt it, making sure if it was there now. It seemed to be all right, the wound had healed all the way, but there was still a matter of her voice box. Looking around a bit, sniffing the air, and listening to make sure no zombies were nearby, she coughed, testing the clarity of her vocal cords, then went though the musical pitches taught in most Earth worlds. There was a slight prickling sensation in the back of her throat as she sang the highest pitch. Her esophagus must have been in the last stages of healing, but at least she could speak. She dreaded the feeling of not being able to talk.

This predicament with her vocal cords reminded FET all too well of her silent years, the worst years of her life. The mere thought of that time made FET's stomach feel queasy. It had been the days when she wasn't an Alucard Hybrid yet, the days when her hair was still brown and body was still vulnerable to pain. Immortal she was at the time, but still of a human body and mind. On her twenty-fifth Molonara birthday, or seventh in Earth time, a disaster and miracle had befallen her. The good part was that she managed to journey to the Ages of Myst, a world created by the minds of humans that created, played, and loved it, as was the same for all the worlds she visited. There she learned the Art and taught Plink, her creation, the secrets of its wondrous power, granting her many worlds created by the human fan to travel to.

But there was a downside to this gift. When she had gone through the Zone Gate to the unknown that became the Star Fissure, her prison. There she just existed, and entered a long sleep. When she awoke, she found she no longer had the ability to speak. It was a mystery as to how this was, and even when she got back after that long venture, even the greatest healers of her world, the Ghost Cats, could find nothing wrong with her vocal cords, she just simply could not speak. Lucky, after years of painstaking silence and having others talk for her, Dr. Reven Malof, one of the oldest Ghost Cats and her dearest friend, along with the help of his assistances were able to find another way to help her. It was hard, but eventually, it was that that had lead to the creation of her Hybrid body, her new life, her new voice, all were stronger then ever. FET smiled at the memories that came after that, but then her smile disappeared as the queasiness in her stomach got worse.

Normally, FET would never feel sick from anything, her body was immune from any bacteria or viruses that would happen to enter her body without consent. The only reason she would feel like throwing up was if she had eaten something tainted with a poison or chemical she had not encountered or whatever it was, was rotten beyond consumption. FET hadn't eaten anything in the last few hours, so the feeling of being sick raised a number of tiny red waving flags. Why did she feel ill to the stomach? Struggling to stand, her legs slightly shaking from the running she had to do in the last few days, plus being low on blood in her circulatory system, she attempted to stagger to the edge of the building just in case. She never made it, for just as she was a yard from the edge, a wave of nausea hit FET hard in the back of the neck and an acidic foul taste coated the back of her throat. Topping onto her hands and knees, she vomited, rusty red blood that tasted strange and bits of what looked like beef jerky stained the cold grey stone of the concrete roof. Ughh… this was disgusting, not the most revolting thing FET had ever seen, but it was still icky, and it just kept coming up in spurts, the pool of vomit getting bigger and bigger. She didn't fight this natural reaction though, she knew if it was coming up to say hello again, it was coming up for a good reason. From what she could tell, FET guessed it was just the beef jerky that had made her sick, it had past it's expiration date, hadn't it? Yes, now that she remembered, it had tasted weird, so it must have been bad jerky and she hadn't digested it properly, and perhaps because the Survivors had taken pills and not her, they didn't get sick…. Never before had she been so wrong.

As her stomach began to feel better, meaning it was nearly empty of the contaminates that were festering there, a final wave of nausea came, and as the last of her bile began to trickle out of her gaping, blood stained mouth, FET felt something solid climbing up her esophagus before she felt it get jammed just at the area where the Hunter had torn her throat out. What was this? FET coughed and gagged, trying to dislodge the unknown item, but it was stuck, wouldn't move a bit and only got her the familiar prickling feeling. It was a good thing FET didn't need to breath, or she would have been chocking at that moment. But she still needed to get this thing or whatever it was out. Finally, after forcefully hacking wasn't getting her anywhere, out of desperation, she brought her hand, still stained copper from the night before, up to her mouth and ever so carefully, removed the solid with her index and middle fingers. She let out a sigh a relief, liking the feeling of having air flow through her lungs again, and with a sense of triumph, looked at the sticky object in her hand.

A few short seconds passed as she tried to register what she was looking at, and when she did, FET did a double take and dropped it, watching the bony digested remains of a human thumb fall with a viscous gooey splash into the blood and jerky vomit. Jerky… FET shook her head in realization, laughing a bit at the irony of it all. That wasn't jerky that was lying in that pool of sick, It was flesh, pale rotting zombie flesh, and the blood wasn't her own as she had thought at first, but of the infected she had killed, and now only realized, eaten. The shocked girl scooted away from the pool of stinking carnage, the memories she didn't see of last night now coming in clear as if on a reel of film. So this was what she had missed while she had pulled back from the harsh reality, this is what she had done in her rage. No wonder the Survivors had looked as they did, so utterly appalled, FET was appalled herself. Why had she done that?

A feeling of self-hatred overwhelmed her senses and FET gave herself a mental slap in the face. Why couldn't she have kept her self control and wait for the Survivors to save her? Why did that Hunter have to go for the jugular and then try to eat it? Why did that Smoker and Boomer have to attack at that moment? Why did any of that had to happen? AND WHY THE HELL DID SHE UTTER THOSE FIVE UNLUCKY JINX BEARING WORDS IN THE SANCITITY OF HER MIND! FET wished she could rewrite the events of yesterday. It was possible, but FET knew it would be illegal and very unwise to do so, besides, everything happens for a reason.

The taste of bile still lingered on her tongue, causing FET to grimace more, scrunching her face as far as it could go. She whipped off most of the bad flavor on the cleanest part of her left sleeve. Speaking of which, her cloths were now tinted a shade of brown from dried blood on her sleeves, pants, and a bit around her collar. Plus she smelled like rancid meat, which is not a good thing to smell like in a zombie world. Perhaps she should clean up. Before she did however, she noted that it was best not to go around as something that looked like it had just popped out of a horror film. With a quick flash of whitish blue and a rearrangement of DNA and atoms, a now normal human looking FET stretched, cracked various joints to limber up, and went to go find a working hose.


End file.
